Page 51 of Humans Don't Have Horns
But I stop avoiding him after that. The days until the battle pass by slowly, and they grow into a pattern. Daton trains the Mongan warriors during the days, and we spend the evenings together. As friends. He never touches me, and I never dare to touch him. We never even flirt.
Mainly we stroll outside of camp. Sometimes we light a fire, and he makes coffee. With way too much sugar. He completely ruins a perfectly good coffee with all that sugar. It’s outrageous.
The Mongan kids steal goods from the Puresoul camps in a daring game. When Daton catches them, he scolds them, warning them how dangerous the Shavirs are. He never scolds them for how wrong it is to steal because it’s Shavirs they stole from. And in Mongans’ eyes, that is not stealing at all. If anything, it’s not even beginning to reclaim what the Shavirs robbed of them. After the scolding, Daton always confiscates the best supply. So sweet coffee for us. He totally does it on purpose, though, by his simpering each time I take the first sip and realize how sweet it is. And he always manages to get my favorite biscuits and fruits. I can’t ignore that he knows which are my favorites. Cinnamon biscuits and strawberries.
Daton keeps teaching me Mongan. But this time without demonstrating the names of different body parts on me.
And he insists I need to start learning how to fight with an ax. More evenings than not, he takes me to a grove, and I throw his axes at a tree trunk. The first time is so inadequate that I cover my face with my hands, too embarrassed to face him. He doesn’t tease me, and since I know him well enough, I know it only means it was that pathetic. He just clears his throat and says, “Let’s start with both hands.”
Throw after throw, he guides and corrects, saying, “Don’t hold so tight,” and, “Release the ax at your eye level.” It takes me a week ofsore shoulders and blisters in my hands until he begins to teach me how to throw with one hand. He never touches me, unlike when he taught me to fight during our journey through Amada.
Yet I’m constantly achingly aware of his closeness, his smell, a mix of sweat and honey, and male. Friends. I said we could be only friends, and he would slit his own throat before crossing a line I drew. Which makes me want him even more.
Sometimes we sit and just watch the stars. The glimpse of the vast universe makes me feel so small, in a comforting way. And Daton is near me, watching them quietly as well, so while I feel small, I don’t feel alone for the first time in a long time.
Growing up, I never had the chance to make friends. As a child, I spent time only with my mother and siblings. And after she died, I was mainly with my guardian and under the haze of Nimatek.
Now Shana and Kala are becoming my friends. With her irascible nature and sharp tongue, even Emek has carved her way into my heart. And Dahav has become important to me.
But Daton. He is more than a friend. Even without touching, he’s more. I don’t want to admit it even to myself because I don’t think anyone will ever get close to what he means to me, despite my logic, despite all the artificial boundaries I struggle to put between us.
On one of those nights, I tell Daton that Amada wouldn’t help me anymore. That the Mongan I understand and speak now is only through what he taught me.
“You do sound different now.” He frowns. I struggle with the language often. The grammar does not come naturally to me, and my vocabulary is basic.
“And the animals and the demichad. That was also Amada. It won’t happen again,” I explain. But I don’t dare to say to him why. I’m too scared to mention anything about what happened at the waterfall.
Yet even without me saying it, he says, “The gods are vindictive,” as if he figured out by himself I was punished and for what. “If you won’t get help, it only means you will manage it by yourself,” he concludes. As if everyone’s life isn’t on the line, including his.
I tremble in awe at the amount of faith he has in me. He’s the only one I told of the loss of those powers. He’s the only one I trust enough.
“You think Amada is a god?” I wonder at his words. “What else?”
“I don’t know. I thought it was just Amada.”
I chew my lip. “Isn’t it blasphemy for you to suggest there’s another god and not only the Goddess?” Because he’s very religious, as far as I can tell.
“The question is not how many gods there are. It’s how many you worship.” He shrugs.
“And you think they’re vindictive?” I ask to affirm his meaning.
He sighs, “I don’t think. I know.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Niska
“Sometimes I wonder how you manage to kill any Shavirs at all. All I ever see you do is primp each other like two idiots.” Emek’s hands are on her hips, the usual scolding expression on her face. Shana rolls her eyes but doesn’t miss a beat of painting my lips.
I pop them loudly once she’s done and smirk at Emek, “And yet the only one to kill more Shavirs than me is Daton. That’s why I’m second. That’s me, a multitasker.”
Now it’s Emek’s turn to roll her eyes. But she can’t hide a ghost of a smile. “The Witch Queen”—no need to explain that she means the Queen of Renya—“persuaded Aldon’s wanna-be king to come meet us all near our camp, at the Golden Queen’s tent,” Emek says. The asshole who wouldn’t come to our camp after the two queens did. I know because I had to waste my time escorting Lian like a fucking delivery girl. Goddess, that woman rubs me wrong in every way possible.
“And how did she manage to have him agree to be with us in the same tent? Isn’t he worried about becoming befouled?” I drawl.
“It’s the tent of the wealthiest person in all of Amada. Haven’t you heard of the cleansing effect of gold?” Emek smiles snidely.
As I enter the tent of the Kozari Queen, I find myself helplessly squinting at the dazzling effect of the gold. Strong daylight pours through the tent’s skylights. The light hits the gold ornaments and wildly twinkles and dances all over. It reminds me of the time Kala, Shana, and I stole some of Emek’s spiritual mushrooms when we were kids. Everything was too much, too loud, too smelly, and too dazzling. I never stole her spiritual shit again.
